


Out of Order

by moodwriter



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood Magic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates, Protective Pack, Scent Marking, Scenting, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:11:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodwriter/pseuds/moodwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets hurt, and Derek gets protective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Order

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  Banner by me
> 
> The story was betaed by the darling @aislinntlc who always has time for me. She is the bestest of the best. I got wonderful prompts on twitter from @valress, @GracyGoodbye and @zoodlemouse13 who asked for "Stiles getting hurt and protective Derek not letting anyone near him" and "badass older Stiles" and "scenting, marking, mine". :) I hope you enjoy this.

Stiles coughs. 

His head is spinning, or it's the world that has lost its sense of direction. Either way, all is not well. 

Then he realizes he's being carried, his nose buried in someone's neck. 

It's raining. 

"Stiles, stay with me."

He's wet all over, and he's pretty sure some of it is blood. He hopes most of it isn't his. "Derek?" His voice is gone. Obliterated. He remembers screaming. 

"We're almost at the car." Derek is speaking like a robot, and Stiles wants to make fun of him, but he doesn't know the right words. He's losing time, too, because he's now in Derek's car, and the world is swooshing past him. Derek is driving way too fast. 

"Be careful," Stiles whispers. "I don't heal like you do." He laughs because there's so much pain. His fingers hurt. He thinks he might have broken every single one of them when he fell. 

Derek growls, but says nothing. Derek's been so good with words lately, and now he's reduced to wolf sounds again. Stiles despairs. 

"You can't turn me." Stiles stares at Derek. "No matter what. Lydia can take my place."

"Shut up, Stiles." The words are nothing but desperate sounds. Derek isn't looking at him. 

"I mean it." He coughs again, and this time there's blood. 

Scott's face emerges from the back and Stiles lets out a strangled scream. He makes Scott jump. "Jesus, Stiles. We've been here all along." 

Isaac leans forward too, and Stiles tries to lift his hand to wave. He can't. 

Derek barks at Scott, tells him to get off their faces, and if he doesn't Derek will kick them out. Scott sits back, huffing, but doesn't say anything more.

They are heading to the old Hale house because that's where Stiles' emergency stuff is. Everything else is destroyed. Derek's loft is burning, the whole building probably gone. Stiles hopes nobody died. 

He hopes he doesn't die because he doesn't want to do that to his father. Or the pack. Or Derek. Derek has lost enough people already. "You have to call Deaton," Stiles says. "Ask him how it would affect me, the bite."

"No," Derek simply says, and that's it. Maybe it means he doesn't smell like death yet. 

"How much of it is mine? How bad is it?" At least he's awake now, his mind sharp again even though he can't move at all and every bump on the road hurts like hell. 

"Bad, worse than ever. Please don't die."

That quiet plea makes him fight harder, to gather everything in him to heal, all the cells, all the magic, all the blood his heart is still pumping into his limbs. He's going to make it. 

Stiles tries to feel his body, but most of it is gone now. He must have hurt his spine. "I can't feel my legs."

"You fell from the third floor," Scott says quietly. 

He did. It felt longer than three floors, though. 

"You'll be fine." Derek glances at him. "Promise."

Stiles doesn't know if he's supposed to promise it or if Derek is promising to take care of him. Either way he's not going to give up. 

Derek is flying out of the car even while it's still running, and he opens the door to Stiles' side and pulls him carefully out of his seat. It hurts, but he doesn't complain because they are in a hurry. 

Isaac and Scott tail after Derek, and Stiles hears Allison's car approaching, too. Everyone is there soon. Good, because he'll need them. 

Peter steps out of the burned house. "I've prepared the circle."

Derek just nods and Stiles smiles because for once they are all working for the same goal. Nobody wants him to die. It's good to know that. 

Derek puts him on the floor, being very careful and gentle, wiping dirt off Stiles' face. "Tell me you can do this."

"I need you," Stiles says, staring at Derek. "You have to bleed. Sorry... It's going to hurt."

"I don't care."

He knows that. Derek always hurts, like he doesn't care one bit for his own safety. There hasn't been one encounter with the supernatural that hasn't ended in Derek almost dying. It's about time someone else does the dying. Stiles snorts because dying was not on his to-do-list when he woke up this morning. 

There are candles, vials, bowls, herbs, runes, everything Stiles needs. He's coughing blood again, and he notices absently that Derek's white tank top is now mostly red. 

"Hurry up," Derek says to the pack as they are gathering around them. He's using his Alpha voice, and it shakes the foundations of the pack connection. Stiles thinks this might have not been possible without everything that happened during their Junior year. They weren't a pack then, but they are now, and he can use their power. 

They sit down, circling Derek and Stiles, following the drawings Peter has prepared. Stiles looks around and sees Peter with a bowl, a knife in his hand. The sacrifice. Stiles hopes it's going to be enough. They all bleed for him: Cora, Allison, Lydia, Isaac, Scott, and even Peter. It's surreal because Stiles has always been the one to take care of their wounds that won't heal. And he's not even a healer. His magic is offensive, sometimes defensive, and mostly all over the place. This requires focus which he doesn't have. 

His head is spinning again, and Derek cradles him closer, then holds Stiles' head so Peter can draw two symbols on his cheeks and one on his forehead with the blood. The rest of the blood is put over a candle to cook. The pack links their hands, Peter sitting next to Cora and Scott, and Derek takes Stiles' hand, softly, gently, trying not to hurt his broken fingers. 

"Okay, lets begin," Stiles says. He tries not to cough. That makes it so hard to talk. 

Derek puts the knife through his forearm and leaves it there so his arm won't stop bleeding. Then he just continues to hold Stiles against himself, his legs warm against Stiles' sides. 

"You say: 'We hold the power. We use it to heal him.' Just repeat it." Stiles thinks about the lines he's read a million times. They've practiced this monthly ever since Peter found the spell book. It's a part of the precaution since they have humans in their pack. 

The pack starts to chant, and Stiles feels their power connecting with his. He tries to squeeze Derek's hand, but it hurts too much. He settles for breathing in Derek's scent. "My time has not come," Stiles says, and he's surprised by how strong he sounds. "I am here to heal, not to break the earth and steal its strength. I am endless, nothing but time and energy. I am the light that shines through me. I command no one. I ask for the wounds to close, for the bones to mend. I ask for a peaceful mind." He repeats it four times, then lies there, breathing, listening. 

Nothing happens at first, but he's expecting that. Then the candles go out, and Lydia breathes in sharply but doesn't stop chanting. Derek goes rigid, and then lets out a strangled scream, his body shaking. Derek tries not to hurt Stiles with the shaking, but he can't fight the magic so he flips them over, puts his weight on his arms and legs, his body over Stiles', keeping them connected the whole time. Derek's wolf pushes out, and he claws at the wooden floor, growling. Stiles doesn't close his eyes because he's not afraid. Derek is his Alpha; he's Derek's emissary. Derek will never hurt him. 

Derek's blood is moving on the floor, and Stiles sees a part of it slide past his head. He's hoping this works because he's growing weaker, and he can't rein the magic. It's already getting free, getting wild, and there's nothing he can do. 

"Focus," Derek growls. "Don't give up now."

He tries, but he's barely conscious. 

Derek's hands capture his head, hold him while Derek stares at him, his eyes red like rubies. "Breathe with me, Stiles."

He looks into those powerful eyes and breathes, and with each breath he feels how the magic comes back to him, lets him focus, lets him guide it, and with Derek's help he creates a blood circle around them and then takes Derek's healing ability into his own body. His back arches off the floor and he screams, feeling every bone in his body rearrange themselves. His skin repairs itself, his organs heal, and he starts feeling his whole body again. 

Stiles hears Scott yell: "Did it work?" before he loses consciousness. 

When he wakes up he's somewhere unfamiliar. Derek is lying next to him, their hands linked. The bed is soft and the place smells like detergent. Stiles guesses they are in a motel. 

"You're awake," Derek says, but doesn't move.

"Yeah..." Stiles stretches his legs because he can. He's still hurting everywhere, but it's not so bad. He's glad he can feel pain. 

"How are you?"

Stiles breathes in, then says, "Fine. I'm fine. Achy, nauseous, tired, but alive. Where's the pack?"

Derek growls. 

"No pack. Okay." He pauses, thinking. "What's going on?"

"You got hurt."

"It's not their fault," Stiles says carefully. There was another wolf pack that liked Derek's territory. They tried to take it by force, and of course that didn't sit well with the Hale pack.

Stiles didn't almost die because of mistakes made by someone else. The mistakes were all his. 

"I don't care." Derek sounds petulant, and Stiles tries to bite off the grin. His Alpha is feeling vindictive over him. 

"They are dead, though? The other pack?" 

"Very. Scott went berserk because of what happened. Allison called her dad to clean up. All's fine." Derek's thumb is stroking Stiles' hand. 

Stiles sighs. "Your loft, though?"

"Burned down. The fire department managed to save most of the building. Nobody died." 

Stiles turns to look at Derek. He wants to turn on his side, but his body isn't willing yet. "That was a surprise attack. Are you okay?"

"I have insurance."

"I meant the fire," Stiles whispers. Derek had been inside when the rival pack torched the place. 

Derek stares at him. "It wasn't nice."

Sometimes he would like to throttle Derek because his words are so inefficient. This time, he just waits patiently. Then suddenly, Derek leans close, rubbing his cheek against Stiles'. It's scent marking, Stiles knows it, but it's never going to be not weird. Stiles grabs a handful of Derek's hair and tries to pull him back. "Hey, I already smell like you. No need to get all werewolfy on my ass. I didn't stray on enemy territory."

"No, you just almost died." Derek buries his face in Stiles' neck and that tickles. He squirms, but Derek just grabs Stiles' wrists and holds him still. There's something deep and dark in Derek's eyes when he looks at Stiles. "Please let me. Please?"

He almost died. If he hadn't stayed conscious he would've because nobody else could've fixed him. Stiles is quiet for a while, searching Derek's face, trying to see what he needs, and then he nods. 

Derek lets out a low rumble, then moves on top of Stiles, being so very careful not to hurt him. Derek sniffs Stiles' forehead, kisses it, then moves lower on his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks. It feels weird, but Stiles lets it happen because Derek almost lost a part of his pack, his emissary, his guide. And Stiles wonders if he's becoming something more too because Derek lingers and doesn't let go of his wrists.

"Try not to breathe for a second," Derek whispers next to Stiles' lips, and Stiles holds his breath. Derek tilts Stiles' head back with his chin and bites the sensitive skin under Stiles' jaw. His wolf is there, tasting Stiles, and it could be feral but it isn't. Just precise, just exactly what Derek needs, and perfectly under his control. He bites Stiles' Adam's apple and Stiles realizes why it's good he's not breathing right now. Derek is so close to all those weak points which he could break so easily. No distractions, nothing but Stiles' blood pumping through his veins. 

Derek stays there for a while, biting and licking Stiles' throat, making his skin itch and burn, but Stiles doesn't say anything. Right now, he doesn't dare. 

At first Derek pulls at the collar of Stiles' T-shirt to get it out of the way so he can bite and lick and sniff Stiles' collarbones, his shoulders. Then he pushes it up, up, up, until it's over Stiles' head, and this is different. Stiles takes hold of Derek's shoulders, stops him. "What are you-"

Derek bites Stiles' lip, and that silences him completely. He draws in a breath, then holds it, holds it when Derek nuzzles his chest, puts his ear over Stiles' beating heart, and stays there. It feels almost like a forever. Time stands still. 

"God, you're frustrating," Stiles mutters because he has to say something. Derek is making him feel like he's a treasure. 

Derek licks his nipple, and that surprises Stiles completely. He arches his back off the bed, letting out a shocked breath. Derek does it again, and this time, Stiles is sure it was an purpose. "No monkey business," Stiles says, trying to look down at Derek who's looking right at him, still more wolf than human. "You didn't lose me. No biting fragile humans, okay?"

Derek growls and takes Stiles' nipple between his sharp teeth and that is freaking scary. Stiles holds absolutely still, then feels Derek lick at it again. 

"Oh my god... You're doing that on purpose. Why are you doing that on purpose?" He feels a spike of arousal and knows Derek senses it too. Derek lowers his body on top of Stiles, and he's hard against Stiles' thigh, so hard. "You're confusing the shit out of me," he says desperately when Derek moves on top of him, thrusts against him, and Stiles tilts his head back, groaning.

Derek kisses the side of Stiles' head. "Sorry, I'm trying to keep it under control, but you smell too good. Perfect. Healed. Mine. I can't... I don't want to stop."

Stiles hesitates only for a second, then pulls Derek's face against his neck and says, "It's okay. I'm here."

Derek breathes in, then whines like he's totally lost with himself. 

"I can deal with a horny werewolf," Stiles says, and Derek groans but keeps breathing in Stiles' scent.

It's weird and wonderful at the same time, and Stiles relaxes under Derek. He feels like he belongs there. 

Derek nuzzles even closer, needy, making noises deep in his throat. He's captured Stiles' wrists again. 

"Are we gonna talk about this?" Stiles asks softly, but Derek is too far gone, the wolf taking over. It's still relatively safe for him because even the feral side of the wolf knows how important Stiles is to the Alpha as a human being. Derek wouldn't bite him. Stiles tilts his head to the side, surrendering completely. Derek licks him over and over again, long licks over his neck and shoulder, his chest and even arms. 

Derek moves, his whole body covering Stiles', spreading his scent all over, making Stiles his. 

It's not really sexual, Stiles realizes at some point when Derek hasn't done anything too inappropriate. It's just a need in the core of the wolf to make sure that its emissary? pack member? mate? is alright. 

Stiles trembles under Derek, feels his heart jumping when Derek nips at his skin. Derek doesn't go below his waist, and he keeps holding Stiles' wrists, but it's strange all the same. Stiles tries to keep his breathing steady, tries to think through it, but there are times when he only feels, waits for the next bite, the next lick, the next kiss. His wrists seem to fascinate Derek, and those end up against his mouth more than once. Stiles is covered with tiny circles, tiny red marks, and he's panting when Derek finally pulls back, releases his wrists, and looks at him with slight fear and shame. 

"It's okay," Stiles says carefully, holding out his hand, wrist first if Derek wants to bite that, and he does. Derek is sitting on top of Stiles stomach, his face human again, his fangs gone. He bites Stiles' wrist, holds it close to his mouth far too long. The tip of his tongue tickles, makes Stiles squirm again, and it's so, so arousing. "You have to smell it," Stiles whispers, and Derek nods. Of course he does. Of course he fucking does. "Are you teasing me?" 

Derek growls, moving on top of Stiles, releasing Stiles' hand. _Not teasing, just totally out of control._

They stare at each other, and Stiles bites his lower lip. Fuck, his life is insane. "You want to claim me?"

Derek shakes his head, then nods, adds a word Stiles can't quite understand. He guesses it's a yes. 

"Are you serious? Do you mean it? I nearly died. It messes with your head."

Derek looks so frustrated, his hands by his sides. He's so heavy, so hot against Stiles' bare skin. "I want you safe."

Stiles keeps his hands on either side of his head. He's being passive on purpose. "I am safe. You saved me. You did everything right. You found me in time. Thank you."

"Not enough. You hurt so much."

Derek puts a hand over Stiles' heart, sucking all the lingering pain out of his body. It's like a drug, like the best high ever, and that is dangerous. Two can't be out of their minds right now. "Stop it, please. Please?"

Derek stares at his hand, pulls it back, and bites it like it had a mind of its own and did something it wasn't allowed to do. 

Stiles takes the hand, makes Derek release it, and then he kisses the fingers one by one, staring into Derek's eyes. "I'm fine. You saved me. Your wolf saved me."

Derek traces Stiles' mouth with his thumb. "I can't lose you."

"I know."

"I want to... bind us together, keep you safe forever. If you're connected to me you'll heal."

Stiles holds his breath. "Is that the only reason?"

Derek covers Stiles again, his lips now almost touching Stiles'. "Please have me."

"Give me a reason," Stiles says, feeling Derek's breath close to his mouth.

Derek whines.

"Please tell me why. Please? Derek?"

Derek noses Stiles' lips, then presses his own against them. It's a very gentle, fragile touch, then Derek pulls back a little. "I need you." 

It's still not enough. The Alpha needs its emissary. Stiles wants Derek to want him. "Why?"

Derek curls in on himself, trying to hide from the very feelings Stiles wants him to express. He needs those feelings to be sure that Derek wouldn't do this because he feels obligated, because he's the Alpha, because it's the right thing to do. He wants Derek to belong to him only if Derek wants it. 

"Because I can't live without you," Derek barks, and it's pain and honesty. "Don't make me spell it out. I know how I feel."

Stiles takes hold of Derek's face. "Then bite me, bind yourself to me."

Derek kisses Stiles' face, can't seem to stop himself from finding every inch he hasn't yet touched. "Can I?"

"I love you," Stiles simply says, and those words create a protective shield around them. 

Derek looks at him, his eyes big, and it's the first time Stiles has ever seen Derek being completely open. "Love?"

Stiles nods. He loves this crazy wolf. He doesn't care how difficult it's going to be. Everything about their lives is always difficult. This, this will be different. "Bite me, make me yours."

"Mate?" Derek sounds quiet, serene. 

Stiles smiles. Yeah, that too and everything in between. "Yes, mate."

Derek closes his eyes, smiling a peaceful smile. "Okay." He tilts Stiles' head to the side and nuzzles his neck, making sweet noises that curl Stiles' toes. The bite itself is different from any other Derek has ever given him. It's the only time he's not careful with it so he won't turn Stiles. With this bite, he can't turn Stiles because the intent is different, because it means he wants to give himself to Stiles, in his hands, into his heart, at his mercy. He'll be Stiles' wolf until his dying day, and they'll be connected in ways that they can't even imagine. 

Stiles tries to breathe through it, tries to lie still so the bite won't tear too much of his skin. Derek licks his blood, swallows it, and keeps Stiles as close as possible. 

Stiles knows they are too young for this. He knows it's stupid since they haven't even properly kissed yet. They are doing everything in the wrong order, but he doesn't care because it feels so right. Every piece inside him moves to its rightful place, and he clicks into his new role: the Alpha's mate. He doesn't know everything that it means, but he knows enough. He knows it's irreversible. He knows he'll be able to feel Derek's wolf thoughts. He knows he'll heal, and that he'll feel Derek's pain. At least it means Derek will take better care of himself from now on. 

When Derek releases his neck it's pulsing with the beat of his heart. It's painful and yet, he's never felt so light in his life. 

Derek howls at the moon, and Stiles hears vaguely how the other wolves of their pack answer to the howl. They know.

Stiles puts a hand over the wound, but Derek pulls his hand away and licks the wound until it closes. It's the most erotic thing Stiles has ever experienced, and he can't keep in the whimper. Derek makes an odd sound, then gathers all of Stiles under him. He's totally safe, guarded, and it feels so weird. "You're mine," Derek whispers, sounding human. "Oh my god, you're mine. Don't let me mess this up."

Stiles thinks that he has to stay alive longer than Derek, that he has to survive everything so Derek can never lose him. He'll get better; he'll get stronger and faster just to keep himself alive. "You'll be perfect," Stiles whispers. 

"I'll love you," Derek says, sounding mesmerized. 

"You will." Stiles smiles. He's so tired. "Can we sleep now?"

"Anything you want." Derek noses the skin behind Stiles' ear. "Am I too heavy?"

"No!" The thought of Derek going anywhere feels so wrong it hurts. "Stay there."

Derek laughs. "Okay."

Before Stiles drifts to sleep he realizes that he can hear Derek's heart beating. The sound makes him sigh.


End file.
